


Sunk

by Gort



Series: Hidden Treasure [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Man overboard but no one cares because it's Ward, Mermaids, Minor Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Minor Violence, Rival Captains, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: AU. Hunter’s lost his ship, his first mate’s fallen for a mermaid, and his rival has just turned up. He’s doomed, but not quite in the way he expected.Beta'd by Sunalso





	Sunk

**Author's Note:**

> _This is the second part of a series with Sunalso: First Mate, Sunk, and Overboard._

 

“A mermaid.”

Fitz sighed. “Yes.”

“You and a mermaid.”

“Hunter, how many times are you going to ask the same bloody question?”

Squinting up at the gorgeous blue sky, Hunter scowled. The breeze was light, the sea was calm, and a ship carrying a cargo of rum, imported French silk, and other delightfully expensive fripperies was supposed to be passing through his favorite hijacking waters any day now.

If only he still had a ship.

Turning his head, Hunter eyed his first mate who, up to this point, had been a pretty damn good pirate. Fitz was great with the rigging and knew better than anyone how to coax a little extra speed out of what had been Hunter’s pride and joy, but now the Barbarella lay at the bottom of the sea, sunk by a murderous band of mermaids who apparently didn’t approve of one of their own fraternizing with a human.

His ship was gone, half his crew was gone, and curse it, Fitz looked like he wanted to sink to the bottom of the sea himself. Hunter tried to get comfortable on the plank of wood they were sharing. Their chances of rescue were minimal, and they were miles from land. Which was the entire reason they were out here since it made the perfect spot for an ambush.  Unfortunately, the mermaids had sussed that out as well.

“What did I tell you about mermaids?” Hunter sighed. “They’re nothing but trouble.”

Fitz trailed his hand lazily through the water and refused to meet Hunter’s eye. “Jemma’s special.”

“She’s something, all right.” Hunter eyed the position of the sun. It was slowly sinking toward the horizon, and while they weren’t chilled now, they would be in a few hours. Things looked bleak. The only way they could get worse would be if…

“Captain!” one of the men floating nearby shouted.

Hunter lifted his head and opened his mouth to ask why the hell Trip was interrupting his sulk when he spotted it. A ship. It was off in the distance, but growing larger by the minute. Hunter would have recognized it from halfway across the planet, because what kind of proper pirate captain wasn’t familiar with his rival’s boat? Hunter dropped his head back and groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

It was the Mockingbird. He’d hit rock bottom.

***

Part of him had almost hoped the Mockingbird would pass them by, but for the sake of his remaining crew, Hunter had joined in the hullabaloo as the ship drew closer, stripping off his shirt and waving it overhead (maybe with a little less zeal than he might have otherwise) to catch their attention.

Fitz was the only one who didn’t join in, floating quietly next to Hunter with one arm wrapped around their shared plank and his eyes searching the water. His haunted look didn’t bode well. Hunter had seen many a man laid low by temptation, but to fall for a mermaid was courting death. He nudged Fitz with his elbow, trying to snap him out of his melancholy as the ship drew closer. Its sails snapped in the wind as the pirates on board heaved her to, and Hunter caught Trip’s eye and jerked his chin. Trip nodded back and began to shout instructions at the crewman clinging to their chosen flotsam.

It wasn’t much longer before they were all hauled out of the water, sunburnt, soaked to the skin, and smelling of brine. Hunter stuck toward the back of the ragtag pack, hoping this little scheme would work. He’d never met the Mockingbird’s captain, so the chances of going unrecognized were in his favor, as long as the others all kept their traps shut. One slip up and he’d be walking the plank. Or at least, that’s what he’d do to any rival of his, given the chance. He hadn’t become one of the most feared pirates in these waters by showing mercy. Not according to the rumors that Trip was excellent at spreading, at least.

Now, though, Hunter had no ship and only a handful of crewmembers. Some scourge of the seas he was. Fitz was slumped over the gunwale nearby, morosely gazing out to sea, while the rest of them awaited the arrival of the ship’s captain and tried to get over the shock of not ending up in a watery grave. The Mockingbird’s crew were ranged around them and it hadn’t slipped Hunter’s notice that even though they’d all been searched for weapons as they were brought on board, the men surrounding them hadn’t let down their guard.

Whoever this fellow was, he ran a tight ship. Hunter almost admired the dedication he inspired in his crew, if he wasn’t such a pain in Hunter’s ass. More than once in the last year, he’d come across a ship he’d been planning to hijack only to find the Mockingbird had gotten there first. It was annoying as hell.

“So.” A tall man, his bald head shining burnished copper in the fading sunlight, stepped forward and crossed his arms. Arms the size of hams. Bloody hell, it was a good thing Mockingbird’s captain preferred to stay out of the limelight, if this was him, otherwise Hunter’s reputation would have been sunk much earlier. “Where’s your captain?”

“Dead,” Trip said immediately. Hunter frowned, hoping he looked suitably put out.

The man lifted an eyebrow. “That right?”

“We had some trouble with mermaids,” Trip said, shrugging.

The big man’s expression shifted to something almost sympathetic and Hunter wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out his game. Was he going to lure them into some kind of false sense of security before tossing them all in the brig and collecting the bounty on their heads? “You still got a first mate?” 

Trip hooked a thumb in Fitz’s direction, but Fitz just let out a sigh, staring out over the ocean. “It was his mermaid,” Trip said.

“There, Mack,” someone said, sounding amused. “Feel better now?” Hunter stood a little straighter as a striking woman stepped up next to Mack. She was dressed just like the men, but the way her breeches clung to her hips and her shirt pulled tight across her breasts left no doubt of her sex. A coil of blonde hair cascaded down her back and a flash of envy raced through Hunter’s veins as she put her hand on Mack’s arm.

“Can’t be too careful, Captain,” Mack said, giving her a curt nod and stepping back. Hunter was sure his wasn’t the only jaw to hit the deck, but he was too captivated to check. 

Trip was the first to recover. “Captain,” he said, giving her a nod. “Thanks for taking us on board. We’re willing to work for passage to the nearest port.”

“I should hope so,” she said, her fingers curling absently around the handle of the rapier on her hip. Like her, it was long and lean and elegant, and Hunter sincerely wouldn’t mind seeing it bared in the remaining sunlight. “Otherwise why would I bother taking you on at all?”

“You’re seriously trying to tell us this is the captain?” someone in the knot of rescued pirates said incredulously. Hunter dropped his head onto his hand and bit back a groan. Ward. Goddammit, he’d been nothing but trouble since he’d joined the crew. “Come on, we’re not idiots.”

The woman lifted an eyebrow and lifted a hand to stop Mack as he stepped forward, wearing a thunderous frown. “I beg to differ,” she said.

Ward smirked and the remaining pirates shuffled discretely away, leaving him standing alone. “I’m sure the captain loves it when you beg, or you wouldn’t be on board, sweetheart. You gonna get him for us?”

She drew her rapier so swiftly Hunter almost missed it, “I do enjoy begging,” she said, her tone sickly sweet. “So, you might want to start.”

The fierce look on her face was as arousing as the tip of her blade biting into Ward’s stupid throat. Holy christ, she was something else. If Hunter’d had any idea that she was his mysterious rival, he would have been angling for a truce months ago, just so he’d have an excuse to invite her back to his cabin, rapier and all.

When he’d had a cabin. And could properly call himself a captain. Damn, he missed his ship. 

Trip glanced in his direction, but Hunter gave a quick shake of his head. Ward wasn’t worth saving at the cost of the rest of them. Ward’s eyes were round, but the moron still hadn’t backed off, and it took everything Hunter had not to snarl at him to mind his fucking superiors. He edged in Ward’s direction, just in case, though if Mack, still standing at the captain’s shoulder, didn’t look concerned, Hunter supposed he needn’t be either.

Still, he hated to miss a good brawl.

“What was it you did on your ship?” the captain asked. Ward started to swallow but apparently thought better of it as the blade dug into his skin and a spot of blood appeared. He mumbled something, and the captain twisted the blade slightly. “Speak up, man.”

“Swabbie,” Ward grumbled, shooting Hunter a dark look. Bobbi followed his gaze and Hunter found himself staring at a pair of eyes as blue as the sea. He froze and tried to look as uncaptain-like as possible, which wasn’t much of a stretch considering he was still bare-chested and devoid of weapons. Her eyes swept down his body, and Hunter was considering offering to take off his trousers as well if that’d help her gauge his worth, when she returned her attention to Ward.

“I’ve got more than enough of those,” the captain said. “You have ten seconds to convince me I need another.” Ward’s mouth worked, but before he could get a word out, the captain pressed her rapier more firmly against his throat, forcing Ward to take one step back, then another. Hunter watched, his trousers beginning to get uncomfortably tight, as she drove the idiot toward the gunwale of the ship. “Time’s up,” she announced

“What?” Ward said, his voice strangled.

With a flick of her wrist, the captain drew a shallow line across his throat, the wound barely oozing blood. The precision of it was so beautiful Hunter wanted to cry.

“Get off my ship.” She hooked a foot behind Ward’s ankle, twirled her blade once, and smacked the underside of his jaw with the hilt, making his head jerk back as she unbalanced him and sent him tumbling over the side. There was a great splash, and Mack peered over the gunwale, shaking his head, while the captain turned to the rest of them. “Any more questions?”

The crew all shook their heads vigorously, and Hunter couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “We’re all yours,” he said.

***

Hunter took stock of the ship as he and what was left of his crew were herded along, presumably on their way belowdecks. The rigging was neat and the gunwale polished, and even the sails snapped with precision. He’d be fiercely protective of a ship like this, as the captain clearly was. After a brief, whispered consultation with her, Mack had barked a couple of orders that sent people scurrying before he followed the new arrivals across the deck. Hunter also recognized loyalty when he saw it. He’d had some vague notion of inciting a mutiny and commandeering the vessel before they’d been brought on board, but those plans had long been shoved aside.

Now, he only wanted to know more about the captain.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen a female pirate or two in his time, but they were few and far between, and he was curious as hell about how she’d ended up plundering his waters. And whether she’d be amenable to letting him return the favor.

Mack grabbed Hunter’s elbow just as he was about to descend belowdecks, shaking his head. “You’re with me.”

Hunter answered Trip’s questioning look with a shrug, then remained silent as he was led toward the captain’s quarters and shoved into a small room. A large basin, filled to the brim and steaming slightly, took up most of the space, and Hunter’s eyebrows lifted.

“There’s a bath.”

“Yep.”

“For me?”

Mack lifted his eyes to the ceiling, looking beleaguered. “Yes.”

“This is a bit unorthodox, don’t you think? Rather like having a woman as a captain.”

Hunter watched the man’s face shutter. “Captain’s one of the best,” Mack growled. “Don’t think because she’s been merciful so far you won’t still end up in the drink.”

Lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, Hunter nodded toward the bath. “Meant no offense. She seems a decent sort.” A bit odd for a pirate, maybe, but they all had their quirks. If hers was that she preferred her crewmen clean, he’d certainly oblige. “Don’t suppose I could get an actual drink?”

Mack leveled a look at him that told Hunter he was trying the man’s patience, and Hunter had to bite back a smile. He dropped his hands down to untie his breeches and Mack lifted his eyes to the ceiling again. “I’ll be outside the door. I’d tell you not to try anything, but if you need the warning, you’re dumber than you look.”

“Uh, thanks, I think?”

Nodding, Mack spun on his heel, exited the tiny room, and slammed the door behind him. Hunter shucked off his trousers in record time, his boots thumping to the floor a moment later, and stripped off his damp stockings, tempted to burn them later. Everything was crusted with salt, including him, and he eased himself into the tepid water with a blissful sigh. There was even a lump of soap nearby, which he scrubbed through his hair with relish. Carrying fresh water for a bath was a luxury he hadn’t considered when he was captain, but as the knots in his shoulders slowly unwound, he began to see the merits of it. When he managed to get another ship, perhaps he’d follow the Mockingbird’s example.

Hunter closed his eyes, leaning back against the basin and trying to remember all the gossip he’d overheard at their last port of call. There was bound to be some newly-arrived nobleman too stupid to know when he was being fleeced, or a cargo of dubious legality that needed a hand getting to its destination—perhaps a little lighter than when it’d started out.

The door opened, and Hunter peeked under his lashes, expecting to see Mack coming in to hurry him along. Instead, he met a pair of intense blue eyes and floundered for a second, slipping under the water and coming up sputtering.

“Captain?” he said when he could breathe again.

“Bobbi,” she said, settling on a stool by the tub and rested one elbow on the lip. “And you are?” she asked, propping her chin on her hand. This close, he could see the flush of gold the sun had left across her cheekbones and the way her hair curled slightly at the ends where it was escaping her braid. Christ, she was gorgeous. And dangerous as hell. His favorite combination. 

Hunter opened his mouth, closed it again, and considered her for a long moment. Her rapier wasn’t on her hip, which meant his bits were probably safe, but he’d really rather not end up going over the side of the ship if he could help it. “Lance,” he said cautiously, his desire to hear his real name pass through her lips stronger than the temptation to lie. It was a name he wasn’t fond of, having no good memories of the father for whom he’d been named, but he had to assume she’d recognize Hunter if he gave that instead. Two rival captains on one ship was the kind of thing that ended in bloodshed, and he was at a distinct disadvantage.

“Well, Lance,” Bobbi said, lazily inspecting him from head to toe while Hunter willed his cock to behave. The sound of his name rolling off her tongue had him reconsidering his animosity towards it, and he was willing to bet hearing her scream it would be even better. “Want to tell me what your duties were on your ship?”

Hunter swallowed, his throat dry. “This how you usually interview your crew?”

The sides of her mouth quirked upward. “Only in special cases. Now answer the question.” She reached out, sliding a fingertip down his sternum until it was just below the surface of the water, and he was rapidly losing control of his prick. 

“I, uh, quartermaster,” he choked out.

“Hm.” Bobbi’s finger slid a little further down his chest and Hunter tried to keep his breathing slow and even despite the way his heart was hammering in his chest. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms, and the front of her shirt gaped open just enough to tease him with glimpses of her cleavage. “Interesting.”

His cock thought it was damned interested as well, perking up between his legs like it could entice her finger along. She certainly didn’t seem deterred by it, which only made him harder.

“Interesting?” This was the kind of interrogation he’d be more than happy to drag it out for as long as possible. It’d been a while since he’d had the pleasure of anything but his own hand for company, and from the way her fingernail scratched lightly at his chest, she’d hurt him in all the right ways.

“Since one of the others claimed he was the quartermaster.”

Right. Trip. Fuck.

Her hand slid down a little further and Hunter suppressed a groan as her fingertip stopped just above his groin, her wrist brushing against the head of his cock. He gripped his knees and tried to focus. “Yes, well, I, uh, was next in line. He was going to get the ship we were waiting on.”

A tiny crease appeared between Bobbi’s brows and Hunter held his breath, willing her to believe him. If she found out he’d been the captain of the Barbarella, best case scenario had him rotting in the brig, not warming her bed, which was where he sincerely hoped this was going. “You think this is the route the French ship will take?”

Now this was something he could freely share, since he wasn’t going to be pirating again anytime soon. Hunter shifted his hips, trying to stop himself from rutting against her hand. “I know this is the route it’ll take.”

Bobbi tilted her head to one side, considering him, and trailed her fingertip along the length of his straining shaft. Hunter fought the groan bubbling up in his throat before remembering he wasn’t the captain, at least not here, and she had said she enjoyed begging. He was very prepared to beg. Shamelessly.

He let his head fall back against the tub as she wrapped her hand fully around his cock and gave it a stroke. “Fuck,” he hissed.

Abruptly, her hand was gone, and he let out a whimper before lifting his head. Bobbi stood, picking up a nearby cloth to dry her hand on and sauntering toward the bulkhead. A moment later, a section of it slid aside, revealing a generously-sized room. And a bed. She looked over her shoulder as Hunter hastily sat up, water sloshing over the sides of the tub. “Had enough soaking for one day?”

It took him a second to grasp her meaning, finally scrambling out of the tub and snagging the cloth she’d left on the stool. He swiped at his chest and scrubbed it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist, though it did absolutely nothing to hide his eager prick. Moving into the bedroom, he slid the hidden door shut and accepted the glass of amber liquid Bobbi pressed into his hand. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. Rum, just the way he liked it. Holy god that was delicious. He was warm to his toes in a way he hadn’t been for hours.

“Mack said you’d asked for a drink.”

“Did he? Didn’t realize he cared.”

“Well, it was more like he said you didn’t deserve one and I inferred. How do you know what route the ship is going to take?”

Hunter smirked, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Because the fool navigator they hired also loves his drink.”

Bobbi reached up and leisurely began to undo the buttons of her shirt. “Your captain must have trusted you,” she said. Hunter nodded, his eyes glued to her chest as she revealed a dainty chemise that looked like it’d be more at home under the piles of silk Hunter usually stole than the roughspun shirt she was wearing. “The rest of the men do, too. Is it well-placed?”

“What?” Hunter said, tearing his eyes from her bosom.

“I’m asking, can I trust you?” she asked, shrugging out of her shirt and letting it cascade to the floor.

Hunter nearly fumbled his drink as she reached for the laces of her trousers, her eyes steady on him. He’d barely escaped drowning today, only to find himself in over his head in a whole new way. And what a welcome way to go. “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

“Good,” she murmured, stepping out of her trousers and reaching for the cloth precariously clinging to his hips. “Because I’d like to.”

Tossing back the rest of his drink, Hunter dropped the empty glass on top of his makeshift towel and reached for her, only to stop a hairsbreadth from her hips as he remembered his role. He wasn’t captain here. He was nothing and she was everything. He waited, his head spinning from a hell of a lot more than just a drink, and only after a faint smile flitted across her face, her chin dipping once, did he close the distance between them.

Bobbi’s chemise was smooth under his hands, and her lips tasted like salt and honey with a tinge of rum. Hunter was sure he was drowning. Maybe he was already dead, and this was just some mermaid’s trick, but he wasn’t sure he cared. She grabbed his ass, pulling him against her, and he groaned against her mouth, nipping at her tongue.

Grabbing a fistful of fabric, he yanked it up and over her head, gratified to see she hadn’t bothered with any of the other ridiculous accoutrement the women were wearing nowadays. He wouldn’t have lasted the hour it would have taken to wrestle that nonsense off her, and she probably wouldn’t have appreciated him popping off early. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, enjoying the weight of them in his palms and the way she moaned when his fingers found her nipples. Whatever he’d done to catch her eye, he sincerely hoped it was something he could repeat.

He shuddered as she slipped a hand between them to fist his cock and steered him across the room until the backs of his knees hit something. “Bed,” she panted, pushing impatiently at his shoulder. Hunter immediately sank down, taking the opportunity to kiss her neck while his hands trailed along her spine. She arched towards him as his lips closed around one nipple, and he kneaded her other breast roughly, listening to her mewl.

A moment later she bowled him onto his back, her hands closing around his wrists, and he found himself gazing up at her as she straddled his hips and he tried to catch his breath. She stared at him, her eyes bright. Her grip on his wrists was tight but not uncomfortable and she seemed to be searching for something. “Is this the part where I beg?” he finally asked.

She tipped her head to one side, her hair cascading over one shoulder, and this time he got a genuine smile out of her. Something inside his chest did a somersault, and he held his breath, waiting for her reply. “You’re not what I imagined,” she murmured, bending down to kiss him again. She wiggled on top of him, his poor cock trapped between her thighs and so close to where it wanted to be. Capturing his lower lip between her teeth, she sucked on it as he bucked up impatiently.

“No?” he gasped. He had no clue what she’d expected, given that this was the first time they’d met and he hadn’t told her who he really was, but it sounded like that was a good thing.

“Are you going to be good for me?” she whispered in his ear.

Hunter’s cock jerked against her thigh and he groaned. “Fuck yes.”

She ground down against him and bit his earlobe. “Let me ride you until I scream?”

The wooden beams overhead blurred in his vision. “Please,” he managed.

Bobbi released one of his wrists, but he didn’t dare move as she lifted up and positioned his cock at her entrance before slowly sinking down. Hunter whimpered, his hands closing into fists, and his thighs trembling as he fought the urge to thrust into her. She was all fire and silk, inside and out, and he was more than willing to burn if that’s what she wanted.

She took in every inch of him before she paused, her eyes at half-mast and slid her hands down to his chest. Hunter kept as still as he could, his fingernails digging into his palms. “Very good,” she murmured, lightly scratching his chest, and then she began to move.

Hunter’s eyes rolled up in his head and he forgot all about his resolve to quietly lie there, grasping her hips as she slid up and down the length of his cock. She was squeezing him just right as he thrust up, her hands curled around his shoulders for leverage, and her breasts were swaying enticingly close to his face.

Good christ, this had gone from the worst to the best day he’d ever had.

He wiggled a hand down between her legs, rubbing in just the right spot, and she let out a moan that he hoped half the crew could hear. Maybe he wasn’t captain anymore, but he sure as hell wouldn’t mind carving out a new reputation for pleasing this one.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Just, right…” Her breath hitched and her fingernails bit into his skin, marking him as her hips churned and she came around his cock. Hunter barely managed to stave off his own orgasm until she was finished, a dazed look in her eye and her entire body relaxing in a way he hadn’t yet seen.

Yanking her down, he kissed her roughly and resumed thrusting into her. His entire body thrummed with pleasure as she began to move again, matching his frantic movements while she pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Desire, sharp and heady, drove his hips until he finally found his release, tipping over the edge with a groan.

She shifted and he reluctantly loosened the grip on her hair, hoping she wasn’t going to go far, but she just rolled to one side and propped her head on her hand, watching him. She reached out, tracing the line of his nose and the curve of his lip before sliding a fingertip down his throat as delicately as she’d scarred Ward with her rapier.

Her fingers traced the lines of ink scrawled over his heart. “Your ship?” she asked.

Hunter could hardly focus, his brains still scrambled from his orgasm. “The Barbarella,” he rasped. “God rest her, she was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Bobbi looked up with an amused glint in her eye. “Second best,” he amended.

“Good answer.” She patted his tattoo and laid her head on his shoulder. “Captain.”


End file.
